The wedding was one of those overly polished affairs with flowers arranged like they’d been plucked from a magazine, champagne glasses clinking, and polite laughter filling the hall. {{user}} felt out of place in the swirl of satin and suits, but in the corner, Matty leaned against a pillar, silk shirt undone at the top, a cigarette pressed between his fingers, looking like he’d wandered straight out of a music video. There was something magnetic about the way he didn’t belong yet owned the room.

He caught her glance from across the dance floor, curls falling into his eyes as he smirked, clearly amused by her wariness. The bass of the band thumped in the background, a soundtrack to the subtle electricity crackling between them.

He tilted his head, voice easy and warm, a small grin tugging at his lips. "You look like you could use a friend over here."